The Hippie Haven
by DArtagnan09
Summary: During a routine visit to his favorite bookstore, Spencer finds himself distracted by the new shop that just opened up next door. Then he finds himself distracted by the pretty manager that runs the place. One-shot, Spencer/OC.


Hey guys! I've not been doing a lot of writing lately, but I wrote up the majority of this months ago and decided to do something with it when I stumbled across it today. I hope it's not too bad! The store is partially based on the store my boyfriend owns and manages, and the information about mixed twins was paraphrased from Wikipedia (I couldn't find any documentation of boy/girl mixed twins, but hey. It's my fanfiction!). Madaraka Day Kenya's Independence Day, celebrated June 1st, and Swahili is one of the official languages of Kenya, along with English.

I don't own Criminal Minds. Consider yourselves disclaimed.

* * *

After almost a full month of back to back cases, Spencer Reid was relieved to have finally found a Wednesday afternoon to visit his favorite used bookstore. He noticed with some interest that the vacant space next door had finally been occupied, and was amused to see the brightly colored banner naming the store "Hippie Haven."

'I'll have to be sure to tell Garcia about it,' he thought absently, and spared it no further mind as he entered his own haven and began to browse the shelves.

An hour later and with 2 new books under his arm, he exited the store, passing the new business again. This time, however, someone was leaving as he passed, and Spencer had to stop at the scent he caught from the open door. It was incense, clean and dark, and it smelled like comfort and welcome home.

His feet guided him in without conscious thought, and his nose led him through the clothes, bags, and knick knacks to the back corner, which held a large incense display. An employee was seated cross-legged on the floor, sorting boxes of more incense, and she looked up as he approached.

"Hi!" she said brightly, grinning. "Welcome to the Haven! I'm Ophelia, can I help you find something?"

"Yes please, I was wondering what scent you're burning?" Spencer asked politely, pointing at the intricate wooden box giving off thin wisps of smoke. "I could smell it outside, I really like it."

"Sure, it's...it's...oh crap. I'm so sorry - I got five new scents in today and now I can't even think of which one I picked out to burn. Oh, I'll tell you what though," she said thoughtfully, reaching for several clear bags and slipping a single stick of a different incense in each bag, pulling a pen from behind her ear to scribble the names on the plastic. "Take one of each, figure out which one you like. Then you can come back for it." She handed him the bags with a flourish, never rising from the floor.

"Oh, uh, thank you," Spencer said. "I actually need a holder too."

"Right behind you," Ophelia pointed. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Some of the burners were generic, some wood, some stone, some decorated with Zodiac signs. He spent several minutes sorting through them, before selecting a wooden box similar to the one being used in the store. Ophelia noticed as he made his way to the cash register, brushing off her denim shorts as she followed.

"Happy with your choice?" she asked, ringing up his purchase. "Ten dollars even."

Spencer's brow furrowed. "Yes, but the tag says twelve."

"New customer discount," she grinned. "I don't know you from our old location - I take it you shop next door." She pointed at the books under his arm. "It's nice to meet you..."

"Uh, Spencer. You too. And yes, I'm usually there at least once a week."

"I didn't even know it was here until my boss, the owner of the Haven, had me come look at this place. I hope to get in there soon, but I've been working around the clock getting these doors open."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, to Spencer's surprise. He felt out of place and comfortable at the same time, and something about Ophelia made her easy to talk to. A group of customers came in all too quickly, and he decided to leave her to her work. He glanced back as he reached the door, and was surprised by the warm feeling in his chest when she smiled at him again.

* * *

He found himself visiting the bookstore more frequently than usual, and by reason of proximity and his need for more incense (he told himself), Ophelia as well. She was nearly always there when he came in, understandably as the manager. He found out that she handpicked all the art and jewelry they had on consignment, and that the owner let her have free range to run the store as she pleased, and as such it had turned into an eclectic but workable mix of old school hippie, new age hip, and geek chic tastes. There were stars and rainbows painted on the walls and ceiling, and what Ophelia called the "Shrine of Happiness", a section of wall where customers were welcome to write positive messages and quotes, and Spencer had been surprised at the peace a few of them had brought after a particularly rough case. A few weeks after their first meeting found them alone in the store again. Ophelia sat cross-legged on the counter as they talked.

"You have a twin brother?" Spencer asked, surprised.

"Mmhmm, Calvin's five minutes older than me. We have an older sister, too, Natasha. They still live in Seattle, near Mom and Dad. What about you, do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment the door opened and a couple of older women walked in. Ophelia told him to hold that thought as she hopped down from the counter to help them, and he took the time to observe her.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive. She was a head or so shorter than him, with a lean swimmer's body, her workout of choice after a running injury in her teens. He thought she looked like she fit in at a place called "Hippie Haven" - shorts and skinny jeans, tank tops and t shirts, sometimes with pictures or band names, and every now and then pretty dresses with a bit of lace. He had never actually seen shoes on her feet, even in the store, but he had noticed her toenails painted various shades of purple after he mentioned it was his favorite color. She was pale in the same delicate way he was pale but covered in freckles, with prominent cheek bones and eyes such a dark hazel they were nearly brown. She had a few small tattoos here and there and a diamond stud in her nose, and her curly ginger hair stopped just above her shoulders, framing her face. He wondered idly if it would be as soft as it looked if he curled his fingers into it...

He physically shook the thought from his head as the customers left and Ophelia joined him again, leaning a hip against the counter. "What were we talking about?"

"You asked if I have any siblings," he supplied. "I don't. My dad left when I was a kid and my mom...never remarried."

"Oh Spencer, I'm sorry," she said immediately. "Gah, what a coward. Do you still talk to him?"

"No. I saw him for work related reasons several years ago, but we haven't spoken since. Nor will we, most likely."

"His loss," she said sincerely. "Geez. Dick. What about your mom?"

"Um, we're close. She still lives in Las Vegas. I visit when I can, which isn't often, so I write regularly to make up for it." He stopped for a moment, debating whether or not to continue. He decided that she would probably understand. "She uh...she actually lives in a sanitarium. She has paranoid schizophrenia."

Her brow furrowed, but not with pity. It was concern. "But if your dad left when you were a kid...oh, Spencer. You were the one that had to have her committed, weren't you?"

Spencer blinked owlishly. "Um, yes. How did you..."

Ophelia smiled softly at him. "Because my mom had to do the same thing. Your story is almost identical to hers, except Grandpa didn't leave, he died. I know what it did to her to grow up like that. I understand why you remind me of her now."

* * *

The next several weeks afforded fewer visits than Spencer would have liked, and he found himself missing Ophelia. She had been on his mind more and more often lately, and the last time he had been in the Haven she had scribbled down her cell number. "I know you keep erratic hours," she had said, "but call any time. If I don't answer I'm just sleeping." He found himself contemplating the small piece of paper in his hands, eyeing the number he had memorized the moment he saw it. Morgan and JJ, who had both been watching him for several minutes, locked eyes across the bullpen, nodding simultaneously before standing and approaching the younger agent.

"Is that a phone number?" JJ asked immediately. Spencer blushed, tucking it into his pocket as he attempted to look busy.

"Uh, it's nothing-" but Morgan's hand came down on the file had had moved to open.

"Try again."

Spencer held his breath as he looked between his friends, before he found himself telling them everything about Ophelia and the Hippie Haven, surprisingly happy to get it off his chest.

"She's one of the only people outside this team I feel really comfortable with. She knows about my mom, she...she understands."

JJ and Morgan looked at each other. "So when are you going to ask her on a date?" JJ asked.

Spencer blushed and immediately thought to deny it, but... "Do you think she'd say yes?"

"She gave you her number for a reason, Pretty Boy! Now, here's what you should and shouldn't do..."

* * *

Ophelia waved and smiled as Spencer entered the Haven, pointing at the cell phone she held to her ear. He smiled in return and nodded that he didn't mind.

"You know what, Calvin, maybe it's _your_ turn to come to _me_ for our birthday!" After a moment she gave a playful scoff. "All my friends are _here_!" The answer was quick and Ophelia threw her head back in a laugh. "You are such a dick. You're coming to me and that's final. I'll book your ticket tonight. Yeah, yeah, you big baby. I love you too, talk to you later." She hung up and gave Spencer an apologetic smile, rolling her eyes. "Big brothers."

"You guys seem really close," he grinned back, perching on the stool she scooted out for him as she sat on the counter.

"We've always been best friends, it's really hard being so far away from him." She looked wistful.

"Why did you move so far from home?" Spencer asked curiously.

Ophelia shrugged. "I needed a change. My childhood wasn't bad, by any means, but I was scared I'd never grow out of the reputation of being one of the 'weird twins'. People weren't unkind, it was just the first thing they associated us with. If they believed we were twins at all, that is."

Spencer blinked, confused. "What do you mean, 'weird twins'? Why wouldn't they believe you, don't you look alike?"

Ophelia furrowed her brow at him. "I mean, a little, but..." She trailed off as realization dawned in her eyes. "Oh my God, I can't believe I've never told you about my family! How on earth did that happen?" She jumped down from the counter and ducked into the back room, emerging with a small photo album. "Have you ever heard of mixed twins?"

Spencer nodded. "Fraternal twins, usually born to two mixed race parents, which differ in skin color and other traits considered to be racial features. While uncommon, a sperm or egg may randomly acquire mostly alleles that confer either light or dark skin coloration. In these cases, fraternal twins can have drastically dissimilar skin colors and other physical characteristics." He paused for a moment, before a small, disbelieving grin started to grow on his face. "Are you telling me you're biracial?"

Ophelia giggled, handing him the photo album. "I am, in fact, a second generation African-American."

Spencer opened the cover to be greeted with a teenage Ophelia, pale as ever, wrapped up in the arms of a dark skinned boy her age, both grinning widely, cheeks smushed together. Spencer laughed as he noted the identical smiles and dimples, and recognized the cheekbones he so admired on Ophelia jutting proudly on her brother.

"I think you look alike," he said, flipping through the pages. Their parents and sister were prominent in the album as well, with warm tawny skin, the shade nearly a perfect blend of the two youngest children.

"Yeah? I'm glad, most people can't see past our skin color. Both of my grandfathers were from Kenya and moved here for work. My parents were both born here, then met in college and bonded over their shared mixed heritage. It was a little weird growing up as a perceived white child in a perceived black family, but it was important to my parents that I felt comfortable about where I came from. My grandparents actually call me by my middle name, Nuru. We have family still in Mombasa that we visit for Madaraka Day when we can, and my babu makes sure I speak Swahili as regularly as I speak English."

"Nuru, that means 'light', doesn't it?"

"It does! Calvin's middle name is Tendaji, it means 'makes things happen', and Natasha's is Zuri, which means 'beautiful'. Hey, how did you even have cause to learn about mixed twins, anyway?"

Spencer stilled for a moment, closing the photo album and handing it back to her. "I, um. I dated a geneticist for a while."

When he'd found out about Ophelia, Morgan had begun giving Spencer advice. The rule he had drilled in over and over was never to talk about his ex with his current 'lady', as the older man put it. They're jealous creatures, he'd said, it will only make her think you're still hung up on her and that is the quickest way to get shown the door. Not that Ophelia was his, in any way shape or form, but Spencer suddenly found himself terrified he had ruined something.

But Ophelia surprised him by only smiling softly. "That makes sense. It seems like an uncomfortable subject for you, please don't feel obligated to explain yourself if you don't want to. But if you need an unbiased friend with a good ear I'm available."

"Oh. Really?"

Ophelia's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Of course. I mean, we're friends, right? I know we've only hung out at my job and talked on the phone a few times but I feel like we get along and enjoy each others company. Isn't that what friendship is?"

Spencer found himself smiling almost shyly, and mentally crossing his fingers took a leap. "Yeah, it is. We are friends. Sorry, just...my friend Morgan says you should never mention your ex around a woman. He said it makes them think you can't get over a past relationship."

"Your friend Morgan needs to be spending his time around some different women if that's his experience. Spencer, I'd really like to be completely honest with you, okay, but I also want you to be honest with me. Do you believe that I enjoy spending time with you and that no matter what you tell me I want to be your friend?"

"Um. Yes."

"Are you interested in me beyond friendship at all?"

Spencer blushed crimson, but wanted to be honest as she'd asked. "Um. Yes."

"Alright then." Ophelia walked to the front of the store, locked the door and flipped the sign to display 'Closed'. "Important conversations call for privacy," she said in answer to his questioning look. "I'm not going to lie to you, Spencer. I'm attracted to you. I find you handsome, funny, compassionate, brave, understanding, and most importantly kind. That said, I'm not the jealous type, even if we were together. Everyone has a past, I'd be naive to think you hadn't been in love before. I certainly have. I won't say I'm not intimidated - you're a genius, she was a geneticist and I have a Bachelor of Business Administration from a rinky dink state university. But above all that, and no matter what happens between us, we are friends. Friends are there for each other. They listen, they offer advice and support. That includes over past relationships that ended in heartbreak."

Spencer had been gazing at her wide eyed through her confession. She held his gaze earnestly, willing him to believe and accept her words. No one had ever said so many kind things about him at once before. After a moment he closed his mouth and cleared his throat. "Heartbreak?"

She smiled that soft smile again. "You're not the only one who can read body language, Dr. Profiler. I need to know one thing, though, not because I'm accusing you but because it's only fair for me to know - are you still having trouble getting over her?"

Spencer took a long moment to think over his answer. It had been a little over two years since Maeve's death, but Gideon's death had convinced the young genius that he needed to move on. "I've mourned her, and I can honestly say that I'm at peace with it and ready to explore something new. But a part of me will always love her."

"No one should ever expect otherwise. Something new?"

He couldn't help but smile back, suddenly giddy and almost lightheaded. "Can you read my body language right now?"

"Nope, my turn. Profile me. What am I thinking?" The grin was a question and a challenge and a promise all in one, but Spencer forced himself to look past the radiance of it. Pupils dilated. Shallow breaths, lips slightly parted. Heart rate increased, judging from the pulsing of the vein he could see in her neck. Taking a deep breath and mentally crossing his fingers again, he placed one hand gently on her hip and pressed his lips softly to hers. His heart nearly stopped when her fingers fluttered against his cheek with the barest of welcoming pressure. He parted from her after just a few moments.

"Well?"

"No wonder you're so good at your job." He didn't have time to grin as she threaded her fingers into the hair at the base of his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers, and he finally knew what it felt to be kissed by someone he truly cared about.

* * *

Let me know what you thought!


End file.
